Sometimes I get very sick of dressing like a girly girl. I'm a bit of a closet feminist (though I don't even like the term, and all the post-post-post-post-blah-blah-blah feminism around these days confuses me), and looking into my wardrobe these days is putting me in danger of using phrases like "heteronormative", "gender roles", and who knows what else. I suddenly want, with all my heart, all of my ugly clothes that I left at home. I'm going to the Red Cross tomorrow to look for some ridiculous jumpers. Unless this mood has passed by then.
On a vaguely-related train of thought, everyone in this city is much too cool. What happened to fun clothes? At least I have
hel-looks to cheer me up.
"Last time I wore a dress when I was 5 years old. I cried because I hated it so much."
"I have a blue period now. Last summer I wore only violet, last year yellow-and-black. I love colours."
"We are dressed up as Teletubbies."
I want to go to soirees in this dress at Christmas.
Holy pattern-mixing, Batman! I hope the blue of the dress is as rich in real life, because it looks pretty spectacular here.
I thought that I didn't really like skirts with built-in braces, but I guess I was just sick of the overly-hip, overly-skinny ones from H&M (if I see one more person wearing one in this city...), because the cream one here is divine. And accessorising with a brooch always makes me swoon!
I've saved my favourite for last. Look, my favourite outfit involves trousers! And what a pair of trousers they are... The frills! The bows! The foppish aesthetic of it all! I'm just going to go and drool over here in the corner for a while.
